


Jack and Kath Go to the Art Museum

by WriteMeToHell



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Anti Irish Sentiment, Class Differences, Class Issues, F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Character Death, grieving process, yeah that was a thing in 1899
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:56:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22309783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriteMeToHell/pseuds/WriteMeToHell
Summary: Exactly what the title says.What should've been a fun date turns out to be a lot more introspective than either of them imagined.(Or, Jack and Katherine deal with their unresolved class issues)
Relationships: Jack Kelly/Katherine Plumber
Comments: 13
Kudos: 42





	Jack and Kath Go to the Art Museum

It was her idea, initially. 

It’s not that Jack didn’t want to go. Hell, if you’d asked him ten, even five years ago he’d be bounding up those steps two at a time and doing laps around the grand colosseum pillars. The museum had technically been open to the public for years, but Jack always known that that welcome came with restrictions. There were no dress codes per say, but one look at a building like that and you just knew there would side eyed glances and snide remarks spoken under the breath that you’d rather ignore. Jack, for all bravado, felt best sticking to places where he felt like he belonged. And there were some places where it was made clear you would never belong. Medda had wanted to take him back years ago when he’d first gotten into sketching, but their trip was ‘postponed’ after she learned about their attitude towards Negro patrons. 

It almost felt like a betrayal now, him being here without her. 

But Katherine had seemed so excited when she shoved the tickets in his hand. 

“She’s this woman artist, Mary Cassett. They’re having a show for her in a few weeks. Bill knows the curator, I got us tickets ahead of time.”

“Oh, wow. Great Ace, that’s really swell.” He gave what he hoped was his most debonair grin as he kissed her on the cheek. All the while a creeping sense of dread began to rise in his chest. 

It wasn’t an uncommon feeling. The first time it came over him was when Katherine was looking through his sketches of the Refuge. Seeing her in his penthouse, sorting through his papers with a calm deliberation, struck a type of shame in him he had never quite experienced before. It was like being gutted open like a fish, his innards exposed for all the world to see. 

Now it flared up at more innocuous times, like when she checks his cartoon captions for spelling, or when they ate a meal with more than one kind of fork. Or just two weeks ago when she had asked when his birthday was. He had clenched his teeth and balled his hands into fists so tight the cuticles dug into the palm. It was like he was willing himself to stop time, or at least try to stall it for the moment being. There had been no need for him in the past to explain that he didn’t know when his birthday was. He had no formal birth certificate, and his vaguest notion to when the date actually fell were when his father would start drinking heavier than usual. His birthday had also been the last day of life for his mother. They didn’t have a certificate for that either.

Theirs was supposed to be a relationship of equals. Katherine had insisted upon it, her being a suffragette and all. He wanted to keep it that way. He just wasn’t quite sure how.

Now in a suit he’d rented just for the occasion and his arm linked in hers, they strolled together through the foreboding brass doors. For a second Jack thought his legs were going to fail him. The place was huge, far bigger than Medda’s theater, or maybe even Grand Central. The ceiling and walls towered over him, lit in a dull glow by a series of candelabras that cast gray shadows over the stone curvatures of the entryways. Jack found himself craning his neck, trying to take in all that was around him. He only stopped when he felt a gentle arm on his shoulder.

“Calm down love, it’s just a museum.” 

Jack was about to retort back, but then he remembered who he was speaking to. Katherine was staring at him intently, giving a dazzling smile. And god, did she look beautiful tonight. Everything, from her simple french twist updo to her lace collared dress just screamed class. She had little pearl studs in her ears, and Jack had to fight the temptation to kiss them multiple times on there way over here (Katherine had insisted they’d take a taxi, and the constant clopping of horse hooves made for a very unromantic ride). 

He was doing this for her. Hell, with that smile he’d willingly walk into traffic. 

He let her lead the way- up grand marble staircases and through corridors where the history of the world seemed to loom around them. Half naked men cast in marble, forever stuck in mid movement. Oil paintings of women in practically nothing, staring longingly out from the canvas. Sallow children draped in more finery than they knew what to do with, faces devoid of emotion, as if they’d accepted their fates continue their family’s inbred bloodline. Jack thought of the kids he often saw on the streets; begging or selling cheap wares to passersby. It was remarkable how similar they looked, yet were still worlds apart. He guessed being draped in velvet could do that for you. 

Off to one of the smaller rooms a couple of corridors down, they could now hear the hum of conversation. Through another door, and a somewhat familiar voice could be heard above the din-

“And it’s the woman of the hour herself! Hello there Miss Katherine.” Bill wrapped Katherine in a huge bear hug before faltering and giving Jack a curt nod. “Jack, always a pleasure.”

Jack gave a nod back. “Same to you Bill.” 

His chest was slowly beginning to tighten. Words always came easily to him in the past. Hell, words were practically the way he had made a living for most of his life. But for the first time he found himself hesitant, unsure of how to properly introduce himself.

He had an accent. It was one of the most bizarre revelations he’d ever come to terms with in the past five months. And though it was never said to him outright, he knew people of this set were taken aback by just how broad his New Yorker voice was. He had always been under the impression the most folks talked the way he did, and the few that didn’t were either faking or too displaced from the rest of the city to know any better. Which he later found out was somewhat true.

“I shorten my vowels all the time. That’s how I got through school.” Davey confided in him when they had started making more formal speeches during the strike. “The teachers told me it was the improper way to talk, and the other kids kept giving me a hard time about it, so I guess I just trained myself out of it.”

Trained himself out of it. Like the way you train a dog to take a piss outside. Jack’s mind worked at a rapid pace, thinking of something… anything to say as he followed Katherine towards a small cluster of people. What exactly did the heirs of newspaper moguls do all day? 

Evidently this.

“You need to try this Cabernet. 1897, from Florence. Daphne picked it out herself.” Bill strolled over to a decked out table where a tasteful spread of cheese and sliced meats was set up. Jack followed suit, trying not to think how many people those hors d’oeuvres could feed for a week. All the while, Katherine chatted in his ear.

“....so Daphne is Ralph’s sweetheart, and Ralph’s father knows Eastman Johnson, who’s also friends with Bill’s father, who gave them the idea to start going overseas more to look for art. That’s how this whole thing started-”

“Of course Cassatt is an American artist, but her style has become so French, it’s really hard to tell the difference at this point.” 

They were greeted by a man slightly taller than Bill, his eye line nearly identical to Jack’s. But he appeared taller, with his arrow straight posture and impossibly square shoulders. He had pale blonde hair that seemed to vanish into his even paler skin, and icy, colorless eyes that bore into whoever they were looking at. Which at the moment was Jack.

“Jack, this is Ralph. Ralph Potter.” Katherine paused. “His father’s Howard Potter.” 

Jack wondered if he was supposed to know who Howard Potter was. “Oh. I’m Jack. Uh, Jack Kelly.”

Ralph raised a near invisible eyebrow. “Kelly, I don’t recognize that name. Have you arrived to New York recently?”

Jack’s mouth went dry. “Uh, no. Lived here my whole life.”

Now both blonde eyebrows went up. “Ah.”

“Aaannd we have some Cab. Please try to savor it, I remember how fast you all chugged down that Malbec at last year’s gathering.” 

There were polite chuckles all around as Bill passed two generously filled glasses to him and Katherine. Jack hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should let them know he wasn’t much of a drinker, but then accepted it. He only had to hold the glass after all. No sense in trying to explain to them why. 

“So, tell me,” Katherine said after a long slip. “Whose brilliant idea was this? I feel like I must’ve manifested somewhere in the conversation, you know how long I wanted to feature more women here.”

“Well Katherine, you missed that conversation. It all began in Newport this past August.” A petite, dark haired woman delicately made her way to Ralph’s side and slid one arm next to his. 

Katherine smiled at Jack as she took another sip. “That explains it, we were working pretty hard back in August, weren’t we love?”

The other woman’s lips pressed firmly together. “And you are-?”

“Uh, Jack Kelly.” How many damn times would he have to say his own name? He reached out his hand to shake. In return she lightly gripped it, pulling away as soon as she could.

“Daphne McAllister.”

Ralph chuckled and shook his head. “Working, I love that. It’s adorable Katherine, the way you’re so committed to your little job.”

“Well, it’s hardly a little job.” Katherine pursed her lips slightly, and Jack could see the grip on her glass tightening. “I’m a professional journalist, I have the byline to prove it.”

“It’s true.” Bill butted in. “You do not want to stop this girl when she gets her hands on a story. She can be utterly brutal when the moment asks for it. Isn’t that right Jack?”

“Um,” Jack choked a bit on his own saliva, his mouth growing unusually dry. “Yeah. That’s right.”

“And anyways,” Bill continued, “I was pretty booked in August too. And I’m pretty sure it was my idea to bring the Cassatt collection over. You two wanted Degas, if I recall correctly.”

“That was the initial plan, yes. But you put up a very good argument, my dear boy. After all, we should spend more time focusing on American artists, even if they do spend all their time abroad. Cassatt is practically a female copy of Degas, so it’s like getting the same show for a cheaper price.”

Katherine’s voice gave a sharp inhale. “Well, I don’t think that’s completely true-”

“Wait, Degas? Ain’t he the dancer guy?”

Everyone paused to look at Jack. It was like being studied under a microscope. 

“Oh? And how are you familiar with Degas?” Ralph asked.

“I read an article ‘bout him when I was a kid. I thought it was swell the way he moved from painting to sculptures. I tried to do the same thing but, uh,” Jack suppressed a laugh, thinking about the dirt and straw monstrosity he tried to piece together when he was eleven. “It didn’t exactly work out.”

Katherine gently squeezed his arm. “Jack’s an artist. You should see some of his work, it’s amazing.”

Daphne’s lips were curved upwards, but the smile didn’t exactly meet her eyes. “Oh really, where would we have seen your work?”

“Um..” Jack had the lurking feeling he was walking into a trap. “I’m a cartoonist for The World.”

“You’re selling yourself short Jack.” Katherine gushed. “He does landscapes, political cartoons, he designs theater sets too.”

Ralph looked vaguely interested. “Oh, any shows I’ve seen recently? I saw the most wonderful production of Lear at the Daly’s recently.” 

“No. Vaudeville. On the Bowery.” Jack hated to admit it, but he loved seeing everyone’s eyes pop open in shock at the mere mention of that street. The anxiety began to disparate in his chest as he turned towards Katherine. “Let’s go look around, I want you to give me the grand tour.”

They waited until they were a good ten feet away before speaking again.

“That wasn’t too much, was it?” Jack whispered

“That was perfect. I swear to god I have no idea why Bill invited them, they’ve always gotten my nerves.”

“So then let’s calm your nerves.” Jack took her by the hand lead her over to the first piece, enshrined heavy gold frame. “Tell me about these paintings. I give this lady major credit for working with oils, I can never get a perfect handle of ‘em.”

Katherine paused a moment to take in the full effect of the painting. “So, Cassatt’s American, but she’s spent the last twenty eight years all over Europe; Seville, Paris, that’s where she’s currently settled right now. It’s wonderful, she’s always surrounded herself with women artists, and most of her subjects are women as well. I love how they’re all presented in such intimate settings.”

They went from painting to painting, taking a moment to observe each piece. Pale faces, bathed in light from all corners. Women with babies, women with young children, their faces a study of the unobserved. There was a naturalism Jack had never seen, women who were neither plain nor beautiful, dressed in luxurious pastels, their eyes directed somewhere off canvas. Existing for no one but themselves. 

He stopped in front of one of the smaller pieces, covertly hung in one of the back corners. A a woman breastfeeding. Her face was turned away, staring intently at the child, while the baby gazed adoringly back. The space around them was a shaded mauve, completely devoid of anything except mother and child. It was the most intimate thing Jack had seen in his life. He couldn’t relate to it at all. 

He took a moment to look back at Katherine, who was studying the date on sketch of a little girl and her dog. He reached out to touch her on the shoulder, but paused before he could. 

Then she turned around. “Love, could you refill my glass? I want to check out some of the smaller pictures in the corner.”

“Of course.” He knew he could’ve just given her his own glass, but the trip gave him an excuse to be with his own thoughts for a while. He was looking over the uniform line of dark bottles, trying to figure out which one exactly was the Cab, when he heard a somewhat familiar voice.

“...no I’d never met him before, why else do you think I was so shocked?”

Ralph and Daphne stood semi-conspicuously a few feet away, their backs turned, talking in hushed tones. 

“But you must have heard of him? Everyone knows about Katherine’s little rebellion, she practically has a new one every month.”

“Do you think she’s with him just to make her father angry?”

“I can’t think of any other reason. Of course, this is Katherine Pulitzer. If this isn’t about her father, she probably just wants to be the center of attention. Why else would she bring him here in the first place?”

“For charity?”

Laughter could be heard, Jack’s heart was now pounding through his chest. The edges of his vision began to go red.

“What I don’t understand is where she found him in the first place. Did you hear how he talked? My god, he sounded like he came right off the streets. Where on earth did she find him?”

“Oh, you’re absolutely right, he’s from  _ the streets _ .” Ralph leaned into those last words knowingly, as if he were about to divulge a dirty secret. “Remember when she said how busy they were in August? That was when she was covering the newsboys strike.”

In profile he could see Daphne’s jaw drop. “You can’t be serious!”

Ralph nodded gravely. “Well, it could be worse.”

“How’s that?”

“Did you see his glass. He hasn’t been drinking all evening.”

There was a time when Jack would have bombarded over there and given those two a piece of his mind. He would have yelled, shouted, slam his fists and use every curse word in the book to get his point across. There would have been a fight, and he would’ve won. 

But now, all he could do was stand there stiffly as the rest of the world continued on without him. This new, neutered Jack had to make do with his unused wine glasses and rented suit and a spread of food that he could never touch in fear his eating habits would give him away. 

Or he could just leave.

He left the glasses on the table, swiped a piece of salami, and bolted to the nearest exist. The eyes of disillusioned French children followed him as he ran. 

* * *

When she found him he had been outside for at least a half hour, smoking. He didn’t do this a lot, on account of Crutchie’s lungs and all, but tonight was an exception. He didn’t look up when he saw her small shadow fall against the well lit steps of the building. 

“There you are. I was wondering where you’d run off to!”

Jack shrugged. “I needed a break.”

She looked at him quizzically. “From the party? Yes, I guess it can be quite overwhelming. I can only deal with them in small doses myself-”

“Not that.” He took a sharp inhale and spewed the smoke from the corner of his mouth. “Why are you with me?” 

Katherine’s eyes shot open in shock. “Do… do you mean here right now or-”

“No, I mean why are you  _ with me _ . Because it’s been nearly five months Ace, and I have no idea where we’re going with this. I haven’t been with a… with anyone for this long. And I don’t know where this is going. Or where you want it to go.”

“I… well I….” For the first time since he met her, Katherine seemed to be at a loss for words. 

Jack took one last swipe of his cigarette before dropping it and bumming it out with the front of his foot. “Okay, let’s put it this way. How much does your father have to factor into the decision of us dating?”

“I… I…. what?!” Katherine’s face went from icy pale to red hot. “You think my father has something to do with this! Let me tell you something, Mister Jack Kelly, I have worked very hard to be my own woman, and my father has absolutely nothing to do with the decisions I make! I make sure he knows as little as possible about my life! My life is my own!”

“Oh yeah, then how come I’ve never met your friends before?”

“You’ve met Bill and Darcy!” Katherine said exasperatedly. 

“Yeah, Bill and Darcy, that’s it!” Jack snapped back. “You have this whole other life I never get to see, and when I do everyone makes it perfectly clear that I won’t fit in with them. And I never will. So-” He rubbed the remaining ashes from the cigarette into the steps further. “Why are you with me?”

“Are we really talking about this? Right now?” He could see Kath’s eyes fill with tears and the instant, gutting feeling of guilt grew inside him.

“Well, if you must know, it’s because I care about you. You make me feel happy in a way I haven’t felt in years. And I thought you felt the same way about me.”

“I do Ace, really.” Jack sighed and rubbed his temples. “But what about the long term? If we stay together, what will your father say? Or the rest of ‘em? If you stay with me you’ll be giving all that up. Your whole set will reject you.”

Katherine was silent for a while. “Did I ever tell you how many people talked to me after Lucy died?”

Jack’s head shot up in shock. It was rare for Katherine to bring up her sister.

“No, never have.”

“Just two, Bill and Darcy. Sure, the rest sent flowers and notes and brought hankies to the funeral. But when it came to me actually talking to me, asking how I was doing and really taking the time to listen, there were only really two people I could reach out to.” Katherine laughed ruefully. “And neither of them were my parents. That made me rethink my priorities. Especially who I spend my time with. As it turns out, most people I knew didn’t make the cut.”

Jack looked at her in shock.“How come you never told me that before?”

“I… I don’t know.” Katherine shrugged as she began to rub her arms to ward against the cold. “Sometimes I’m afraid to talk about my personal life with you, because, well… I know you haven’t had it very easy. And my problems might seem small compared to yours.”

The silence between them hung tempestuously in the air. Then Jack spoke.

“When my dad died there wasn’t a funeral.” 

Now it was Katherine that looked up in shock. Jack couldn’t remember mentioning either of his parents before this moment.

“Everybody wanted to blame it on the drinking, but he’d actually stopped six months before. Me, I honestly think it was the exhaustion, doing ten hours a day just to make rent for the month. But most people wanted to call him a drunk and call it a day. People even said I should be happy he was gone, since he was no longer around to be a bad influence on me. It was like the whole world wanted him to disappear.”

He looked over at Katherine. Her face was wet with tears. “Jack, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

The words  _ because I didn’t want you to know _ fell on his lips, but he didn’t say them. Instead he wiped his eyes on his sleeve and chuckled. “When I told Crutchie years later he insisted on having a real funeral for him. Went to Central Park ‘cause that was one of his favorite places, and Crutchie read from the Bible and everything. He even brought flowers.”

“That was really lovely of him.” She took out a handkerchief from the sleeve of her dress and passed it to him. Jack took it gratefully. 

“Sometimes… I feel like there’s this bridge between us, and you can go to my side and I can go to your side but we can never meet in the middle. Or, I don’t know, maybe there is no middle. Not for us, anyways.”

Katherine sighed and rubbed her eyes. “There can’t be a middle if we’re not honest with each other. We can’t give up if we don’t even bother to try in the first place.” She took another deep breath. “And since you really want to know, I wouldn’t mind being with you long term Jack Kelly. For as long as we possibly can.”

Jack looked up suddenly. “Are you talking about-?”

“Yes! Maybe? I don’t know…” Katherine groaned and rubbed her temples. “This is hard to talk about.... I’ve never really thought of the long term before. But since I’ve met you… I can’t imagine my life without you in it, one way or another. And I don’t know what exactly that means at the moment… but it means something. And I hope it means something to you too.”

Jack’s chest tightened. “I want to be with you. But sometimes I don’t know how.”

“Maybe we don’t need to know. Maybe can just learn as we go along.”

Despite himself, Jack grinned. “Geez, if that ain’t an easy answer, I don’t know what is.”

He could feel her small hand gently grasp his.

“I don’t want an easy answer, I want you.”

For awhile they stood together, neither of them speaking. The Jack turned and looked directly into her eyes. They were hazel, he realized. He’d never noticed that before.

“So… now what?”

Katherine looked incredulously back at the doors. “Well, I don’t want to go back there. Not to the party, at least.”

An idea shot like lightning through Jack’s head. “Wait, is the rest of the place still open? To walk around in, I mean?”

A bright smile spread across Katherine’s face. “Jack, you wouldn’t mind?”

He squeezed her hand. “Well, I’d need a tour guide is all, and if you’re up for the task…”

Katherine clapped her hands in delight. “Oh my goodness, I want to hear your opinion on everything! And I’m not stopping, not until we get to the eygptian tombs at least!”

Jack grinned. “Is that a threat?”

She leaned in and gave him a gentle kiss. “No, merely a suggestion.”

He held out his arm. And when she took it, Jack felt more whole than he had in his entire life.

They went back into the museum together, arm in arm. They didn’t have a direction. They didn’t really need one. 

**Author's Note:**

> Holy Smokes! I started this... maybe five months ago?? This was originally done for HarmonyLover's 300x3 challenge on tumblr, and after ignoring for four months, and having pretty lousy mental health issues on the fifth, it is finally done!!!! 
> 
> 2020 is the year of getting shit done and giving the middle finger to perfectionism, and I'm so damn proud I finished this, flaws and all <3
> 
> I'm always a big fan of feedback, please let me know what you think <3 <3 <3


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